


American Sniper

by destielsfinest



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Based off a show, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Death, Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Feminine Castiel, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Violence, Knotting, M/M, Marine Dean Winchester, Multi, Omega Castiel, Omega Castiel/Alpha Dean Winchester, References to Knotting, Shifters, Sniper Dean Winchester, Top Dean, Violence, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-14 21:25:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14144907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielsfinest/pseuds/destielsfinest
Summary: Dean Winchester is the best sniper the Marine’s ever had. Now he’s retired and happily living at home with family. But then an old friend comes and ask Dean for help, because does anyonereallyleaves?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heeeeey guys I know you guys are like 'Really? She comes back to finish another story instead of finishing what she started?' Annnd yep! I'm kind of at a stand still with the other works, but this one has half of it written out already so, yea. Hopefully you guys will enjoy and I'll be posting again soon. For real this time. Love you all! <3

            Dean lays back in bed, smiling up at his mate. Watching how Castiel rocks back and forth on his cock, bottom lip stuck between teeth. Dean isn’t really contributing at all, his right hand gripping his lover’s left hip, his left hand smacking his mate’s left ass cheek every so often. And of course, whispering some downright dirty things to him. But other than that Dean is just enjoying the feel of everything. The way Castiel’s blunt nails dig into his chest, how he squeezes around Dean’s cock, and that angry growl that vibrates through him.

            “C’mon Dean…. c’mon.” He whispers, swiveling his hips hard. “Give it to me.”

            “Give you what?” Dean says, delivering another smack to his ass. “Hm, you want my knot? Is that why you’re so wet?” He smacks Cas’s ass again and his mate’s breath stutters along with the rhythm of his hips. “Is that why you’re usin’ me like a toy? Usin’ me to get yourself off.”

            “ _Fuck_ …” Castiel growls again. “Yes… please.”

            “Aren’t we polite tonight.” Dean smirks and he finally sees the blue of Cas’s eyes glaring down at him. The fire in his Omega’s eyes revealing the real him. The fiery Omegas he laid eyes on twelve years ago. Castiel starts moving his hips faster, clearly done playing by Dean’s rules. He fucks himself hard and fast on Dean’s cock, the noise of skin slapping against skin fills the room. Dean’s knot starts forming and his grip on Cas’s hip gets tighter.

            “ _Jesus_ Cas…” He pants, his other hand moving to grope his mate’s ass cheek. “That’s right fuck me. Make yourself cum on my knot.”

            “Oh my- shit…. _Dean_.” Cas breaths as Dean’s knot starts catching on rim. “Yeeesss…I’m gonna cum.” He grinds his hips against Dean’s, shifting his angle a little to the left and then he’s cumming. Stripes of white painting he and Dean’s stomachs. That’s enough to send Dean over the edge, Cas clenching tight around him, milking him for everything he’s got.

            “ _Sonuvabitch_ …” He mutters gripping Cas, who has fell limp and is laying against his chest, as he empties himself inside of his mate. Castiel is practically purring on top of him, snuggling his face into Dean’s neck. “I swear you’re more of a cat than a wolf.” Dean mumbles against Cas’s damp temple.

            “Shut up.” He says pinching Dean’s side, which gets a low growl from the Alpha and Cas smirks. “Wake me in an hour, the kiddies will be up by then.” Dean grumbles and they both fall into a deep sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

            There’s a couple of soft giggles outside of their bedroom door and Dean already knows who they belong too.

            “It’s your turn Emma.” He hears his eight-year-old daughter Claire say.

            “Nuh uh, I did it the last time.” He can sense the eye roll that Claire gives and he smiles. She _definitely_ gets her fierceness and attitude from Cas.

            “Fine, you big baby.” She huffs, and her hand comes up to knock on the door. “Mama, Daddy? It’s breakfast time.” The lump next to Dean groans and shifts under the mountains of covers.

            “I thought I told you to wake up.”

            “Uh, wake up.”

            Castiel smacks him hard on the chest.

            “Ass,” He mutters tossing the covers off himself and reaching down on the side of the bed to retrieve his grey sleeping shorts. They were silk with a little pink bow in the middle on the front of them. He slips them on getting out of bed before walking over to grab his robe off the chair and putting it on. “There’s no telling what the kitchen and living room looks like now. And if the little munchkins messed it up, guess who’s on cleaning duty.” Cas says with a smile on his face.

            “Yea, yea. I got it.” Dean says, sitting up in bed, running a hand through his hair. Castiel opens the bedroom door and there stand his two oldest pups. Cas smiles at them, leaning down to kiss the top of both of their heads.

            “Morning my little honey bees.”

            “Morning Mama!” Claire says her smile bright as the morning sun. “Can we have pancakes today?”

            “Yes, we can have pancakes today. Emma, how does that sound?”

            She nods her head, her ponytail bouncing along with her.

            “With strawberries.” She adds taking Cas’s hand as he leads them down to the kitchen. Mindless chatter follows behind them as they go and Dean smiles. This was the life.

 

* * *

 

 

            It was around 3:30 in the afternoon. Castiel was in kitchen prepping dinner with James glued to his side. Emma and Claire were in the greenhouse with their Aunt Hannah who had delivered some flowers that Castiel ordered. Dean was in the woods with his oldest boys Jack, Emmanuel and Benjamin. They were shifted into their wolf form, and Dean was hunched down in the bushes, ears pressed back onto his head. He had his eyes on a deer, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His claws dig into the dirt of the ground beneath his paws and just as he’s about to pounce a light brown wolf beats him to it and the deer takes off. Two other wolves appear jumping the light brown wolf.

            _‘Way to go Ben. You ran off tomorrow’s dinner.’_

            _‘Shut up. Like you could do any better.’_

            _‘That’s enough boys. Let’s head back home. I’m sure Mom is waiting for us.’_ They all start trotting back home and Dean nudges Ben with his muzzle. _‘Your form is getting better.’_ Ben huffs and starts trotting ahead with his brothers who pushes him a little as he passes them by. Once they reach the field line to the house they shift back, tossing on their clothes that they set aside before they shifted for the hunt.

            As they were walking back Dean sensed someone to the far right, hiding behind one of the big oaks trees. Lightly sniffing the air, Dean smirks already knowing who it is. And the person has been there for awhile because the smell was there when they first came out to hunt, but he didn’t pay much attention to it.

            “Dad, you are coming?” Emmanuel asks, and Dean nods his head.

            “Yea, I’ll be there in a sec. Go get washed up for dinner.” His son eyes him for a moment and Dean stands a little straighter, giving him a pointed look. “Now Emmanuel.”

            “Yes, sir.” He mumbles before heading off toward the house. Once he’s in the house Dean walks over to the tree, arms crossed over his chest.

            “You’ve been staking the place out for hours now. Are you trying to make me nervous?”

            “All this time I thought snipers don’t get nervous.”

            “I said _trying_.”

            The other Alpha chuckles before revealing himself.

            “It’s good to see you Shooter.” He says approaching Dean with his hand held out.

            “You too Captain MacLeod.” They hug each other briefly before pulling apart.

            “You are one tough cookie to track down. Could you be any more isolated?”

            Dean shrugs his shoulders.

            “I don’t mind people and other shifters, I just don’t like seeing ‘em coming.”

            “Well you look good Dean. How’s the knee treating you?”

            He lifts his leg up, bending it and kicking it back out a couple.

            “I don’t see my self jumping hurdles for track anytime soon, but ‘m managing.” He eyes his former Captain suspiciously. “So, is this visit just for us to catch up or it something to do with the Secret Service?” The other Alpha raises an eyebrow at him and Dean points to the emblem pinned onto his suit jacket. “The pin, that’s the color of the day, right?”

            The Captain nods, placing his hands into his pocket.

            “You don’t miss a thing do you Dean? A month or so after our tour the CIA called me up and they placed me on the Presidents advanced team.”

            Dean nods his head.

            “Well, good for you.”

            “It as it’s moments.” He shrugs his shoulders. “You have somewhere we can talk privately?”

            “Yea, follow me.”

            Dean leads them both to the other side of the house where a tool shed is. He opens the door and walks inside flicking the light on as he does. The walls are lined with guns. From military rifles he’s used while on tour to the guns he collected from age twelve to now. The tool shed is also stocked with supplies, a couple of first aid kits, eight duffle bags each labeled with a name, and the Captain spots one labeled Dean and he nods his head.

            “I see you’re still a diehard liberal.”

            “Never know when shit is going to hit the fan. What can I do you for?”

            The other man nods his head.

            “We’ve never had this conversation.” The Captain says placing a folder on the table and sliding it over to Dean. “A week ago, a CIA agent was shot in the woods of Sioux Falls. He was shot by a sniper. We found their set-up camp 1,700 yards away.”

            “1,700 yards?” Dean raises his eyebrows.

            “With no evidence of multiple shots.”

            “1,700 yards,” Dean opens the folder and starts shuffling through the pictures, looking at the surroundings. “This was definitely a shot the sniper couldn’t afford to miss.” He shifts through the pictures again narrowing his eyebrows. “This doesn’t look like it was done with a .50 caliber.”

            “Because it wasn’t. It was done with a .338.”

            Dean nods his head.

            “Ok, so a shot that’s three quarters of a mile through the woods. He has every element there to get in his way. There’s humidity and vegetation. The axis of the Earth is even a factor. This guy is one hell of a shooter.”

            The Captain nods and pulls out a letter, placing it over the pictures.

            “This is a letter to the President.” Dean looks down on it, but it’s written in another language. From the looks of it it’s written in Russian. “It says that two weeks from now he’s going to be executed in Washington where he’s making a speech at the Wolf Science and Robotic Center. The letter says ‘I am the angel of death. No one can stop me.’ We think it’s from Alastair.”

            Dean pauses, standing up straight and looking at his Captain.

            “Alastair?” The other alpha nods and Dean scoffs, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you shitting me?”

            “I’m afraid not.”

            “What the hell is a Russian sniper doing in Sioux Falls?”

            “I don’t know, and I don’t care. My job is to protect the President. There’s only a few people who would take a shot that’s three quarters of a mile, a _head_ shot at that, and make it. And you’re one of them. That’s why I’m here, I need your help to stop him.”

            Dean shakes his head, leaning back against a table behind him. He can’t. He can’t go back down that road, he refuses too. He was damn good at his job, the perfect solider, but that wasn’t who he was anymore.

            “I can’t. You have a shit ton of guys that can handle.”

            “You don’t understand. The President gets hundreds of thousands of threats a day. I don’t the people or the resources to scout this. Yea, I got a lot of guys, but no one like _you_.”

            Before Dean can give an answer there’s a knock on the door and a head full of blonde curls bounds in.

            “Hey buttercup. What are you doing in here?” Dean asks picking up his daughter Claire as she comes up to him, placing her on his hip.

            “Mama told me to come and get you away from your toys.” She looks over to the other person occupying the room. “Who is he?”

            “Just a friend from Daddy’s old job. He was just leaving.”

            “What happened to you Shooter? I’m asking for your help. The _President_ is asking for your help. Your country _needs_ you Dean Winchester.”

            Dean sizes the Captain up before walking out of the tool shed, daughter placed on his hip as he does. Captain MacLeod sighs, gathering his things, but before he goes he leaves his business card on the table just in case.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long upload, the story is half written but I till nitpick over things. Sorry this chapter is a little shorter, but i promise the next one will be longer and full of action. Until then enjoy this, and I promise the next upload won't be so far apart. 
> 
> P.S. The italic part is from the past, obviously.

A black van was stationed outside of an Omega Brothel; two blocks over was a black SUV parked. Fergus MacLeod was sitting in the driver seat of the SUV, in the passenger seat sat his right-hand man Azazel. Azazel was working Home Land security for him and right now there was a guy inside the Brothel that he desperately needed. Tapping his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel, MacLeod nodded his head.

“Go in there and get him. Quietly.” He emphasizes, casting a glance at Azazel.

The man beside him nods his head, leaning down to speaking into the earpiece attached to him.

“That’s a green light. Let’s go.”

On the other side of the building was a red-headed beta, along with two of her co-workers. Her red locks were pushed back into a ponytail, all of them donned in FBI gear. She impatiently tapped her foot as one of her partners were working on picking the lock.

“Come on, how much longer?”

“This isn’t as easy as it looks.” The alpha grumbled, and the red-head rolled her eyes, looking down at the phone in her hand, re-reading the text message to the man inside that was going to give her the information she’s been working on getting for months.

“Well I need it to be.”

After a minute or two the man mumbles that he’s gotten it opened and she pushes the door opened walking in on light feet her gun held in the air in front of her. Walking through the back of the building through the kitchen she keeps marching forward until she reaches the pool room. She burst through, gun firm in her hand.

“FBI, everybody down!”

Everyone, of course, does the opposite and gets up and starts scurrying out of the room, but not before she catches the other guys on the opposite side of the room. All wearing police gear, but not from the FBI, and then she catches the writing on their vest. ‘Homeland Security.’ She sighs lowering her gun some.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?”

Before she can get an answer, her guy comes through, though there is a look of betrayal on his face and she can tell he’s thinking to flee.

“Cole…. Cole don’t-”

But he was dashing out of the pool room and down through another hallway.

“Shit!” She exclaims before chasing after him only to stop short when Cole gets hit and knocked onto his knees, his arms being yanked behind him, cuffs getting slapped on his wrist.

“Hey, FBI!”

The guy turns to her pointing to his vest.

“Homeland, we got here first darling.” He says winking at her. Cole whispers something to her in Russian and he gets yanked up. “Shut up.” She follows them as they go out through the front door and toward a black van.

“What? That’s like six months of work you’re putting in the back of your van. You guys are so full of shit. Can I at least talk to him first?”

There was no answer as Cole was loaded into the van.

“I must be talking to thin air.”

Another guy approaches her, and he nods.

“What’s your name Agent?” She eyes him skeptically and he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone. “I’m sure you called this in to get your ops plan on the war-board so that no one else could take over?” When she didn’t answer he starts dialing a number, putting it up to his ear. “Hi this is Fergus MacLeod, Secret Service. It seems as though we’re having a jurisdiction problem.”

The red-head rolls her eyes.

“Alright, I didn’t have time to get it on the board. But that’s beside the point, he’s my asset.” Fergus hung up the phone, placing it back into his pocket. “Can you at least tell me why you took him?”

“Depends, why do you want him?”

“He said he had some information for me.”

“What kind of information?” She sighs, placing a hand on her hip.

“Bickham is running an illegal import and export business.” She pursed her lips looking at him. “You know what? I have a marvelous idea, why don’t we work together? The FBI, Secret Service, Homeland. We’re all a part of the same team, right?”

“We aren’t actually. Let me see your badge.”

She grabs it from her hip hands it over to him, and he flips it open and glances over it.

“Agent Bradbury.” He closes it and hands it back. “Let me get this straight. You barge into a known Russian mob establishment over illegal imports and exports?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Something tells me you thought this was bigger than what he was telling you.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Obviously I was right because you guys came and snatched him up. Are you going to tell me why?”

“Absolutely not.” He gives her a cheeky smile. “Nice meeting you Agent Bradbury.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean was in the living room housing a beer in one hand while the other held the remote to the tv. He was aimlessly going through the channels, thinking about the offer that he was given earlier in the day. That’s when Castiel came into the living room, sidling up next to him, plastering his back to Dean’s side, feet perched on the end of the couch. Dean laid a kiss on the top of his head, arm moving to wrap around his mate as she continued to flip through the channels.

“Jimmy is getting better at falling asleep without me being in bed with him.”

“Yea?”

“Yep, went out like a light. So...”

Dean sighs, and stops flipping the channels, landing on some game show.

“I was going to tell you. Claire just beat me to it.”

“She said it was someone from your work that came over. I know it wasn’t anyone from the shop because they could have easily just called.”

“It was my former Captain.”

Castiel was silent for a second, taking a sip from his wine cooler.

“What did he want?”

“Some nut job made a threat toward the President. He wants my help trying to figure out where he’s going to be when he does the shot, so they can get to him before hand.”

“And who do they think it is?”

It was Dean’s turn to be quiet, closing his eyes and downing the rest of his beer.

“Alastair.”

Castiel shifts then to sit up and look at Dean.

“Shit, are you serious?” Dean nods his head and Cas moves closer to him, resting a hand on his knee. “Look, I know you don’t like talking about your time on tour, but Dean,” He places his other hand on the other man’s cheek, turning his face so they were eye to eye. “What happened to Adam, I know it still bothers you, but it wasn’t your fault. We don’t ever have to talk about it, but don’t let that be the reason why you don’t give them your help.”

Dean’s jaw clenched the moment Castiel mentioned Adam. He had no idea how much it bothered him, how every time Dean closed his eyes at night the events of that day play over in his head. He sighs, looking up toward the ceiling, swallowing hard before he speaks.

“We were in Syria. It was hot, just a bunch of rock and sand. We haven’t caught wind of anything serious just yet. I, of course, wasn’t put on the playing field. MacLeod and the rest of our superiors wanted me out of sight. Just be the sniper in the shadows, couldn’t risk me getting hurt. Adam was my spotter.”

_###_

 

 

_“Captain MacLeod, what’s our move?”_

_“Nothing yet.”_

_Dean rolled his eyes, adjusting his rifle on his back._

_“So, I’m just supposed to sit around all day PT’ing?”_

_“It’s a hell of a lot better than getting yourself killed. You have any word on Alastair?”_

_Dean shrugs his shoulders._

_“He could somewhere…. or nowhere. But I can’t know that if you keep me in a box all day.”_

_“Are you and Adam ready for the green light?”_

_“Yes, we are.”_

_“Alright, then consider it lit. Happy hunting.”_

_Dean smirks before walking out of headquarters and toward the tent she shared with Adam and a few other members of their team._

_“Adam, let’s go.” He says nudging him on his leg as he walks past him to grab his bag from his cot._

_“Wait, are you for real?” Dean smiles and nods at him. “About fucking time! Where are we headed?”_

_“We’re just over watching for Delta. We got a four-klick pump to our number one.”_

_“Four? That’s it? If this is the rate we’re going at I’m going to die of old age.”_

_Dean snorts and nods his head._

_“That’s the best way to die Sport. Now get your shit together and let’s go.”_

_“Alright, alright. I’m coming.”_

 

 

###

“So, we go out there searching, though we haven’t heard anything for a week. But Delta heard they he might have been in the area. Stalking, waiting for us to make our move, and boy were they right. Adam wanted to go South, because it thought it was faster. But I- I figured we should go North. My instincts were pulling me there. Adam wanted to go first, but I told him no. Told him I wasn’t going to be calling his Mother telling her she had a dead son on the way home.” Dean took a breath and Cas, who’s head was now laying on his shoulder, grabbed his hand interlacing their fingers. “I moved first, and I heard the gun shot before I felt it.” The pain from the shot he received to the knee sears through his body again as he recalls the day. “Alastair didn’t judge the wind right, it’s the only reason he missed shooting me the way he wanted. But then he readied himself for a second shot. And…” Dean swallowed again and Castiel squeezed his hand tightly. “Adam was dead before he even tumbled down the mountain.” A few tears slipped from his eyes. “I wish I could have stopped him before he tried coming for me. He was killed because I trusted my instincts.”

Castiel looked at him, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Don’t you put that on yourself Dean Winchester. Adam died because Alastair shot him. That wasn’t your fault.” The Omega bites his lip before speaking again. “I’m not going to tell you how to live your life or how to cope with any of this, but I think the best way for you to get passed this is to payback the favor. Go and kill the son of a bitch.”

Dean looks at his mate and raises an eyebrow, a little shock by the response.

“And if my instincts are wrong again?”

“Then you do what Alastair did. Adjust your shit and fire again.”

The alpha nods and purses his lips, before pulling his mate in close to him.

“You’re sexy when you talk like that.”

“Oh yea?”

“Yea.”

Castiel moves slowly until he’s seated in Dean’s lap, arms moving to wrap around his neck, gripping onto the blonde strands on the nape of his neck. He leans forward pressing a kiss to his mate’s lips, pulling away with Dean’s bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “Then prove it.” He says with a growl, earning a dark chuckle from Dean.

If Dean ends up with a whimpering Castiel knotted to him on the couch, well it’s no one else’s business but theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave comments and kudos. I want to know what you guys think. Until next time. Goodnight and goodbye.


End file.
